More of a Blessing
by Robert Edwards
Summary: Three months. How long can one man hold on to his sanity? Some instances of cursing and violence/gore. Please review!


This is Bobby. This is my first fanfic, so constructive criticism is welcome.

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It's been only 3 months.

Three months since Jake first left the Vault. Three months since his face was pushed into the harshness of the Capitol Wasteland, away from his studies, his pastimes, his love… all gone, forever removed from the slate that represented his future.

Why did Dad leave? What did he do to have the Overseer, Amata's father, send brainwashed guards with 10mm pistols and batons in an attempt to end his life? What overcame Jake to persuade him to paint the wall of Butch's home with his mother's blood and bits of brain… how could one doctor cause such chaos to ensue?

Jake didn't know. And, quite frankly, he didn't care. His dad was gone, no one was there to give him a comforting hand, and he had to nurse the seven stab wounds, six bullet holes and burns given to him by raiders, mercenaries, and rogue robots running around D.C.

Nobody was there to love him.

Even Tenpenny Tower, the large building that stretched story upon story into the sky, emitting the aura of cleanliness and security from the hellish treatment of the Wastes, had casted him aside, saw him as simply an outcast who would never fit in. Jake was certain, just by the harsh, deep tone of Gustavo's voice, that the blood covering the torn remains of the jumpsuit on his back and the fact that his leg was broken in multiple places and was only held steady by a loosely fabricated leg brace made him seem like a maniac.

"Get the FUCK off of this private estate or Mr. Tenpenny will authorize lethal force to be taken." Gustavo paused, as if pondering the possible outcomes of the situation. "That is, if you have the right amount of _caps_…"

Jake pulled at the edge of his pockets, failing in finding any kind of bottle cap. "Please," Jake begged, feeling like a slave inquiring of more food rations. "M-m-my leg is broken in m-m-multiple spots and I n-need medi-"

Gustavo interrupted with a pleasure creeping into his voice. "Well, I guess me and my supply of _stimpaks _can't help you…"

Jake's eyes widened as the phrase repeated through his head. This low-life guard was playing with him. He was now on the verge of crying, tears traveling to the rim of his eyelid.

"Umm… did you not hear me? Unless you got the caps, then this is pri-"

Before Gustavo could finish his rejection, Jake's arms were beating into the fortified doors, tears streaming from his large, hazel eyes. "LET ME IN, PLE-E-EASE!" he howled loudly, choking back sobs. About 10 seconds into his fit, Jake was pushed back by a hand that appeared as the large, metal gates pulled back.

Three guards were, within seconds, in front of his collapsed body. Assault rifles with full clips were steadied right in front of his face. One man, unarmed, was behind. The man crouched right next to Jake, who was scared shitless.

"Now, you listen to me, you fucking prick." Just by the tone of the man's voice, Jake realized that Gustavo was the man who was leveling a .32 pistol at the base of his knee. "You've got 30 seconds after I let your sorry ass up to get as fucking far away from here as possible, or your knee isn't gonna be so usable anymore." Gustavo seemed to hate Jake with some unforeseen passion.

Jake couldn't find the power to stand. No matter how hard his hand pushed against the gravel, his body slumped back onto the ground. "Well I guess you're crawling, aren't ya, prick?" Gustavo waited, but Jake was too utterly shocked to move. The Chief of Tenpenny Security became highly irritated.

"MOVE IT!"

This is what caused Jake to regain attention. Using his bare fingers, he crawled, fingernails breaking and chipping against rock and gravel. A jagged rock protruding from the ground ripped into Jake's injured leg, ripping through his tender skin and flesh. Even though blood flowed onto the ground in a trail behind him, Jake didn't give himself even a moment to consider his immense pain. His eyes were wide with fear as the guards of Tenpenny Tower hackled at his crippling injury.

But in their wake, they turned Jake into something else. As he took shelter in the Warrington Metro, using only a weak metal fence and some left-over surgical tubing to fend off the horde of mindless, flesh-craving feral ghouls that wished to just rip the flesh from his bones, he cried.

His screams were heard throughout the entirety of the station, causing even more of the malnourished zombies to crowd the makeshift shelter. Jake was horrified when one of the monsters forced its arm through an opening in the chain link and gripped its bony fingers around his broken ankle.

But Jake just laid there. All he could do was contemplate how his life had gone to hell within mere months.

He never knew his mother. Amata was condemned to a life without order or a father in the Vault. James, his own father, had abandoned him. Butch was forced to weep over a lost mother who was killed by Jake's own hands. Nobody loved him.

Jake's vision was suddenly becoming dark. His focus was then not on the ghouls, but on the dark thoughts creeping through his head that depicted his own death.

Soon, Jake blacked out.

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Blood covered the walls.

Jake yelped as he realized that blood and guts were all over the walls outside of the shelter. At least thirty ghouls lay there, dismembered and gutted.

Jake was just standing there, strain taking its toll on his arms. _Who did this?_ thought Jake as he started searching the ruined corpses for any valuables. One thing that he found, which made him stare in silence, was his own hunting blade sticking out of the head of one of the former feral ghouls.

_ Oh, no… _It's been over two weeks since Jake's last attack. He thought he could control it. He thought it was finally over.

Jake was wrong.

Jake's knees felt weak, as he fell onto the ground. Ten people were dead because of him. Seven were unprovoked. Jake was severely troubled. His father couldn't determine what the problem was. Innocent lives were thrown away because of Jake. Butch's mother, the Overseer, poor Moira…

He screamed, not seeming to care as some of the very deadly Reavers popped their disgusting heads around the corner of the tunnel.

Jake was going to die, but it was more of a blessing.


End file.
